Monday: Psalm 79, 81; Isaiah 41.8-20; Matthew 13.1-30

From: Lisa Puckett

On morning drives I’ve been listening to Anne Voskamp’s The Broken Way. She is a farmer’s wife and speaking to her young daughter, she uses a bucket of wheat seeds to illustrate the days of our lives. One seed for each day. In the field, the seeds must break open for new growth to occur. This morning’s reflection considered the “American Dream” bucket-list lifestyle, longing for the day when we can accomplish self-benefiting, far-off goals and adventures, for the end of crafting a ‘life story.’ In contrast she urges me to spend each day in the breaking of my seed, pouring forth offerings for others, bringing the life of Christ to others, Via Dolorosa, along the broken way. She doesn’t directly quote the parable of the sower, but I hear her voice ring through as I read this scripture.

Where are you casting seeds for the kingdom, spreading your life, breaking for others, hoping that fruit will come of it: at work, in the neighborhood, friendships, with siblings, classmates, children, spouse, roommate? We sow in faith, in hope that the dying and giving of our life will persevere the pecking birds, the rocky soil-barren slopes, the scorching sun, the choking thorns. We have no promise of fruit or harvest. Rather, there is promise of perils, wasted seeds, wheat that grows entangled with weeds. We pray that the seeds of our life will fall among the good soil and produce a crop, even if it grows among weeds, roots intertwined. We are called to sow the seeds, to break along with the seeds, offering each hour of our life. We hope in the One who tills the soil of the heart, who releases the bonds covering ears and eyes, who draws hearts to turn and be healed. We sow. He nurtures, tilling soil, opening eyes and ears to hear.  

While we sow, in amazement, we find our own eyes are opened, our own ears begin to hear, our own hearts turn towards His as we commune in the breaking. And we find suddenly that we too are seeds planted among fertile soil, plants growing, bearing fruit, harvested. In the offering of dying daily, we are drawn into communion with Christ in the breaking and offering and filled with abundant life.

We pray to the Lord of the Harvest that our pouring out would bring His harvest in our hearts and in those whom we love and we trust. We must trust in the story He is weaving through our lives, remaining faithful in sowing, trusting in the one who tills the soil to bring a harvest.

I am wife to Jason, mother to Cory and Joel, and one who loves to create, whether it be family dinners, art communities, or distant buildings for the Church.